Sleeping with the Fishes
by HoratiosBabyMama
Summary: The year is 1921 and Chris MacLean is the most feared mob boss in the city.


The building was dingy and cold. Moonlight streamed in the only non-boarded up window. On the floor illuminated in those beams was a man, clutching his leg. He looked up in a pain-induced haze at the man who had shot him. He was standing there, cigarette hanging from his lips, one hand in his pocket, the other loosely holding the gun. He was the picture of nonchalance and Zeke was almost in awe of how someone could be so calm when threatening a person.  
"So Ezekiel, changed your mind yet?" a thumb pushed up the brim of that fedora so Zeke was looking into dark, haunting eyes.  
"I don't have your money!" the man spoke vehemently and clutched tighter at his bleeding leg.  
"Chris loaned you that money out of the goodness of his heart and you don't repay him?" the mobster asked in fake surprise.  
"Just give me more time!" tears leaked from Zeke's eyes and the other male clucked his tongue.  
"Desperation is so unmanly Ezekiel," he kneeled next to the injured man and looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Last chance, come work for Chris and we'll forgive this minor inconvenience," Zeke blinked then scowled.  
"I'd never work for that devil's spawn!"  
He'd said the wrong thing. The man's calm broke and he glared as he shot Zeke right in the head. The mobster smiled at the shocked look on his victim's face as the blood pooled around his skull, ruining that nice blue hat.  
Duncan wiped some blood from his lip and walked towards the door. He needed a drink.

* * *

The speakeasy was bustling with activity. People from all walks of life were meeting, sharing their common hatred of prohibition.

People laughing, people drinking, dancing and having the time of their lives. And some were in the corner making shady deals.

"Here's your payment," the greasy looking man slid an envelope across the table which was picked up by a hulking black man. He checked that all of it was there and nodded to the man who was leaning back in his chair, feet propped on the table.

Glinting, dark eyes looked up at the greasy stooge as a smirk pulled at handsome features, "Very good Eddie, your shipment should arrive next week, then you'll be able to pay back Tony," Eddie looked so relieved and excited that it made the smirking man chuckle. It was too easy.

"Thanks Mr. MacLean sir, you have no idea h-" Eddie was cut off by a sharp look from the black man.

"Please refrain from using my name in public, I'd rather my enemies not know I'm here," the dark-haired man slid his hat low over his eyes. Eddie nodded.  
"Yes sir,"

An Asian man stepped forward, handing Eddie's crony a slip of paper.

"The address where you can get the goods," he explained.

"Thank you Shio," the white-haired man smiled and faded back into the shadows.

"Now gentlemen, our work is done. Go relax and enjoy the show," the ring leader gestured to the distant stage where the lights were dimming.

Eddie and his small entourage smiled and did just that, settling at the table in front of the other groups.

The emcee came into the spotlight onstage, all smiles.

"We have a treat for you tonight folks. These three ladies are the bee's knees and they're going to steal your hearts! Please welcome the Moll's!"

The curtain pulled back and three figures emerged. A blonde, a brunette and a red-head. The brunette was dressed in red, the blonde in blue and the red-head in green. Their hair was dolled up with feathers and their dresses made of layers of beads that shimmered and jingled as they moved to the front of the stage.

The music started and the trio began to move. Instantly the audience was enthralled. The women were envious, wishing they could move like that. The men were cat calling and whistling, beckoning the women to their tables.

The blonde shimmied and blew a kiss in Eddie's direction though if anyone could follow the brown-eyed gaze, they'd see the dark-haired man, not the greasy stooge.

The brunette began to sing along with the music, her rich voice adding to their performance.

The red-head jumped from the stage onto the nearest table, dancing as she leaned down and stole a flabbergasted man's drink, downing it before she jumped back onto the stage. The black man grinned next to his boss.

Eddie was in love. He could not keep his eyes off the blonde. The way she moved and the way those beads bounced, hiding her figure yet slimming her. She was stunning and she was totally looking at him. He amused himself with fantasies of meeting her after the show and slipping off to the back room. Oh the things he would do to her.

As if sensing his thoughts, the dark haired man's eyes narrowed at Eddie, he signaled the men around him who smiled as they moved forward silently.

Eddie and his posse were so distracted by the show that they never saw the arsenic being slipped into their drinks.

Chris MacLean chuckled as he slipped the money-filled envelope into his jacket. Free money and no loss of his goods.

That was why he was the greatest mob boss in the state.

* * *

"So you really liked the show?" a blonde man asked as he sat on the edge of the desk.

"You played your part brilliantly doll," Chris smiled as he leaned back in his chair.

They were sitting in Chris' office in the warehouse they had converted into their lovely headquarters.

"Thanks," the blonde crossed his legs and smiled playfully. The move might have been more effective if he was still wearing that dress instead of pants.

"In fact Scotty, you almost distracted me from the plan," Chris moved so he could put his hand on Scott's knee.

"Well, I can't help it if I'm good at my job," Scott's smile turned into a grin. He loved being a Moll (a gangster's girl); while Chris did all the dirty work, Scott got to do the fun stuff. Like distracting targets or seducing crime lords so his baby could sneak up silently and leave them wondering what the heck had happened.

"Avery was better, her antics got all the guys' buzzin'," Chris shrugged, smirking still. Scott crossed his arms and leaned down to glare at his lover.

"Oh, so you like her better than me huh? Think she's got better gams?" he raised a slender eyebrow and shifted to get off the desk.

His feet had barely touched the floor before he was pulled into Chris' lap.

"Of course not," the mob boss attached his lips to Scott's neck, making the blonde roll his eyes, "Nobody's got better gams than you dollface."

"Are you sure? You seem to think Avery does," Scott said icily though really he was melting under Chris' touch and was only pouting to get more attention.

Chris had made quick work of those annoying suspenders, pushing Scott's shirt aside to kiss golden shoulders. "Avery's got nothin' on you baby," he nipped at the sensitive skin and Scott sighed.

"Fine, I guess I'll believe you," but only because Clay would kill anyone who even dared to touch Avery. He turned his head and tilted Chris' chin up to kiss him properly.

Soon, Scott was straddling the mob boss, working on unbuttoning his shirt while Chris had his face buried in that perfect neck, marking it as his own. Scott shifted in Chris' lap and the sudden friction made both men moan. They were so caught up in their lust; they almost didn't hear the knock at the door.

"Boss! Open up!" the irritated voice of Duncan sounded through the thick oak of the door.

Chris groaned as he pulled away from Scott who was fixing his clothes and sliding off the crime lord. Chris grabbed his hips, keeping him in place. Maybe if he ignored him, Duncan would leave.

But the mobster was persistent, "Come on boss, it's urgent!"

Chris rolled his eyes and let Scott get off him, the blonde still making himself presentable. Chris stood and marched to the door, not even bothering to fix his barely buttoned shirt. He wrenched the door open and glared at the interruption.

"What?"

Blue eyes blinked in surprise before Duncan smirked and crossed his arms.

"Sorry Scott," he called over his boss' shoulder, the blonde just giggled in reply. Scott liked seeing Chris all mad, it was entertaining.

"What is it Duncan?" Chris tapped his fingers against the door he was still holding.

Duncan seemed to shake out of his sarcastic stupor and looked at his boss seriously.

"Alejandro attacked our south quadrant, Trent and Owen got killed in the confusion."

Chris grit his teeth, Alejandro was the leader of their rival gang. Oh he was gonna pay dearly for this.

"He has a soft spot for our girl Heather yeah?" Chris asked as he began buttoning his shirt. Behind him, Scott grabbed his tie and jacket, bringing them to his lover.

"Yeah, says he flirts with her whenever he gets the chance," Heather ran the speakeasy Chris owned down by the docks. She didn't technically work for Chris but she hated Alejandro and was willing to help bring him down.

"Alright, get her and tell her I want to speak with her. And tell Horatio and Clay to get everyone assembled for a meeting," Chris looked at Duncan who nodded and walked off.

"Any orders for me boss?" Scott put a hand on Chris' shoulder and smiled at him. Chris smiled softly back.

"Yeah, Heather will take Alejandro but I need you to distract his right hand, Diego."  
Scott's smile slowly disappeared.

"You mean I have to wear a dress again?"

888

So apparently, I'm the Queen of AUs right now. My friend and I started a roleplay about mobsters recently and that made me think of Chris. He'd be the perfect mob boss don't you think? And Scott makes a great Moll in my opinion. And the image of them in pinstripe suits with tommy guns is just drool worthy.

I hope you enjoyed this oddity and please review, I need feedback!

Till next time,

Whirl


End file.
